


Come Athelas

by baranduin



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003), Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-06
Updated: 2010-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 01:45:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baranduin/pseuds/baranduin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during ROTK, Frodo recovers from his wounds in Minas Tirith. He gets some help from Faramir and Eowyn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Athelas

_When the black breath blows  
and death's shadow grows  
and all lights pass,  
come athelas! come athelas!  
(RoTK, p. 141)_

* * *

The nights are the hardest.

I huddle sleeplessly against the pillows with the covers pulled tight to my chin. The night sounds of Minas Tirith drift through my bedchamber's window--the clatter of boots against stone, the laughter of men as they wend their way home after another night of celebration.

My heart beats against my chest in a painful rhythm: gone … gone … gone.

The days are a little better. In the midst of the crowded city, I am surrounded by friends new and old. There's always so much to see and do--another tale to hear, another song to sing. It leaves me little time to brood though it tires me.

I lean against the pillows, lost in their soft depths. It's quiet now. The only sound that reaches my ears is my own ragged breathing.

I can't do this, can't keep pretending that everything is all right again like it is with the others. They watch me carefully, alert to any sign of distress. I've grown adept at hiding it, even from Sam. It exhausts me so much that all I want at night is to be away from the ones who know me so well. Only then can I drop the mask.

I close my eyes against the painful itching that tugs at my finger, but when I reach to massage it find only the gap. Touching the stump sends a stream of hurt straight to my shoulder. Cold sweat beads my face. Rubbing the small straight scar--will it never stop waking me in the night from a dream of Weathertop--I press my lips tight against a rising wave of nausea. I'm so tired but can't bear to sleep--know what I will see if I do. Holding myself still to keep my stomach settled, I barely hear the soft whisper of silk.

Eowyn touches a cool hand to my forehead and strokes it gently.

"Not sleeping again? What shall I do with you?" Her voice sounds low and sweet in my ear.

"It hurts."

"Where?"

"Everywhere."

She sits on the bed and pulls me into her arms--one still weakened from the Nazgul's blow yet strong enough to hold me tight. Sighing, I sink into her lap with my head cushioned between her breasts, legs draped against the sheets. Limp with relief, I lay still in her embrace.

A clean scent soothes me as she unstops a small flask of athelas-infused oil. My nausea fades as she smoothes my brow with slick fingers and massages my temples in light circles. I don't know if it's the athelas or her touch that dulls the pain and makes the shadows draw back a little.

She comes to my room at night often, knows when I hurt the most. I know what she did at the Field of Pellenor--killed the thing that stabbed me at Weathertop while being wounded herself. We don't speak of it, don't need to say anything. Only Merry and one other had suffered such an injury and yet lived.

"Better?"

"A little."

"Just a little?"

I smile and raise my head. Eowyn kisses the corners of my mouth. Her lips push away the darkness as she rubs them lightly back and forth. They are so soft--unlike the other's mouth. I only know that touch in my mind when I crave it secretly, ashamed that I want what belongs to her.

"Lay on your stomach."

She pulls off my nightshirt and settles me against the bed. I shiver a little from the cool night air against my bare back. Kneeling next to me, she warms more oil in her hands before pouring it down the length of my spine. It tickles and makes me twist against the sheets, laughing.

She slaps my bottom lightly. "How can I rub your back with you squirming and laughing like that? Be still."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, and fresh as well! Are all hobbits so … so …"

I look up into laughing eyes. "So … what?"

She kisses the tip of my nose. "So disrespectful. I'm a princess, I'll have you know in case you've forgotten."

She lays suddenly against me with her arms wrapped around my chest and nuzzles the back of my neck. Her warmth surrounds me, keeps me safe.

Drawing her hands to my back, she pushes herself up again. She presses her knuckles into the small of my back, kneading up and down until I groan with satisfaction. I feel so light as she slides her hands up to my shoulders and squeezes, fingers gripping. I don't know if one minute passes or ten while she strokes me. Now her hands barely touch me, making goosebumps rise--now they dig deep and press me into the sheets. An aching fullness envelops my groin as she cups my buttocks in her hands.

"You want him, don't you?"

I look at her. She's smiling. I hide my head quickly, flushing.

"It's all right."

"No, it's not. He belongs to you. I'm sorry--didn't know I'd given myself away."

"I know you think you're careful not to show it."

"Not careful enough."

"Not to my eyes. Don't worry, it's all right."

I keep my head between my arms, confusion overwhelming me. It's true, I thought I'd been careful not to show how I felt. If Eowyn knew, who else had followed my quick glances at him and guessed the truth?

She continues rubbing my back, and I relax again under the slow drag of her hands.

The door clicks open softly, and quiet footsteps come into the room. I grab for the sheet to cover me and look up.

Faramir stands at the side of the bed smiling down at us. Caressing Eowyn's hair, he drops a quick kiss on her mouth.

"I thought I'd find you here."

My heart pounds, and my fingers clench the sheets tightly to me. Surely he's come to take her away. Eowyn strokes my head, gentling my racing heart.

Faramir sits on the bed. "How are you tonight, Frodo?"

"Very well."

"No, he's not," says Eowyn. "It troubles him badly tonight."

"What have you done for our friend?"

"Soothed him a little with athelas."

"I thought I recognized the scent--felt lightened when I came into the room. Are you done for the night?"

I sigh and wait for them to get up and leave me.

"No, I think not."

"May I stay? I must confess I've been a little jealous of your nighttime visits."

I find my voice. "You knew?"

"Yes, of course. May I stay?"

"Yes … please."

Faramir draws his legs up on the bed and props himself on his elbow as Eowyn turns me on my stomach and pulls the sheet down past my waist. Hiding my face in her lap, I warm from his gaze on me. She repeats her ritual of heating the athelas oil in her hands and touches me lightly. I squirm when Faramir tugs the sheet down past my knees.

Eowyn bends her face to my ear and whispers, "Don't you remember what I told you about wiggling like that?"

"Does he do that often?"

"Yes, he's quite impossible."

I smile and lay still again. She kisses my shoulder before sitting up again and resuming her light stroking. I drift in the warm silence and push against her hands to keep myself from floating off the bed.

Hands cover my buttocks--strong hands that I've not felt before. Fingers squeeze rhythmically before moving down my thighs. He trails the backs of his hands up again to my bottom, thumbs parting me. I can't breathe with his thumbs circling against my opening. The fullness in my groin has returned threefold in an aching sweetness.

"Now I know why I was jealous."

I cry out when they draw their hands from me and Eowyn slides me off her lap. I'm cold.   
A quiet rustling fills the air. They surround me, and I'm warm again. Eowyn's soft breasts strain against my back. She wraps her arms around my chest for a moment before reaching to pull Faramir close. The hair on his chest scratches my nipples, and my erection rests against his belly as he holds my hips lightly. We lay quietly breathing.

Lips touch my mouth, warm tongue teasing. I open my eyes and look at Faramir as he draws his head back. I was wrong--his mouth is soft.

Laying on my back, I look up at both of them.

Faramir says softly, "What do you want tonight?"

I look at one, then the other--they smile at me. My mouth works wordlessly.

Eowyn kisses me lightly and says, "Tell me. Whisper it."

"I want to feel him inside me."

I look up--they smile at each other.

Faramir pulls me into his arms and wraps my legs around his back as Eowyn moves away from us. His mouth is on mine again--hard lips now insistently searching. I open to him and pull his tongue into me, wanting … so sweet. He pushes me onto my back, my head cradled in Eowyn's lap again. I breathe in the aroma of the sea that I have never seen.

He kneels between my thighs, spreading my knees wide and running his hands up and down my chest before cupping them under the flask that she holds to take the oil in his outstretched palms.

He touches me there, fingers pushing but not entering me. Eowyn strokes my head as I moan from the constant circling pressure against my opening. I squirm against the teasing fingers, trying to draw them into me.

"He's wiggling again, Faramir."

"Yes, whimpering, too."

"Well, do something about it."

Fingers push into me suddenly. Colored lights go off under my eyelids as he stretches me slowly round and round. Just as suddenly, the fingers are gone. I sigh at the emptiness and open my eyes to see Eowyn coating his penis with the oil, drawing her hands in a circle up and down the thick shaft. When I gulp at the sight, they look down at me.

"Be careful with him. He's not done this before, I think."

"I will. Are you sure you want to do this, Frodo?"

I nod, my voice gone again. Who's Frodo?

Eowyn strokes my forehead a moment, then slides her hands down my arms and clasps my hands in hers, our fingers entwining. I look up at her.

Slick pressure against my opening makes me squeeze my eyes shut for a minute. Opening them again, my gaze is held in hers. Faramir pushes a little, splitting me open.

"Oh … oh … it's so big." I squeeze Eowyn's hands tightly as he slowly pushes into me. He stops and stays still to let me grow accustomed to the fullness. Moving my hands to clutch at the sheets, I push against him and he begins thrusting.

Eowyn draws her head back and forth over my belly, her hair a silken curtain against my hardness. Warm wetness closes over me, her mouth licking and sucking. She pulls my legs up, hands under my knees opening me to him even more. Everything blurs until all I know is his cock in me and her mouth on me moving as one. I arch against them—let it go on, don't let it stop. Oh … oh … please. I come so hard it hurts, my seed gushing into her mouth in an unending stream.

I lay boneless against the sheets as Faramir thrusts faster and faster into me. I look up and smile—they kiss as he climaxes in long spurts, wetness soothing me inside.

I can't move, feel so heavy as my eyelids close. Dimly, I feel them moving me up against the pillows and arranging the bedcovers over me. Gentle hands stroke me into sleep, soft kisses on my face and neck.

* * *

Faramir and Eowyn lie in each other's arms as Frodo sleeps next to them, a small smile curving his tender lips.

Faramir says softly, "Thank you, love."

"Should I be jealous?"

He strokes her face. "What do you think?"

"I think not. He pulls at my heart so--I think I would do anything to give him even a little peace."

"More than a little peace tonight." He pulls away a little and looks at her quizzically. "You pity him, don't you?"

"With all my heart."

"Does he deserve that after all he's done and suffered?"

"Because of all he's done and had done to him. I'll not tell him, but he would understand."

Eowyn kisses the small scar on Faramir's chest. "Does it hurt tonight?"

"A little. Your arm?"

"Not much."

Frodo moans softly in his sleep and rubs his shoulder. Eowyn pulls him to her and cradles his back against her breasts. "Sshh, sshh." Faramir wraps his arms around the two of them, and the three lie spooned together.

All is still. The scent of athelas lingers in the cool air and surrounds them in their sleep.


End file.
